The air was cleaner then, and the snow more deep.
Great Plains wove wonders my life would not keep.
Horizon stretched out.
Stars flayed and displayed in a capacity to this date, yet unequalled.
A thick tree died; fell clean over.
Did it not realize it was one of a few?
How could it just lie there, paste-white bark exposed?
A veined corpse beloved!
Would that I could have climbed up, rather than crawl over.
Perhaps my view then evolve more solid.
To look upon Prairie with a keen eagle eye.
To view every manner of critter as below.
To see great dancing bolts as kin-
Flashing in rhythm,
Coexisting in time and space,
Marked as equals in an ecosystem-
Weather and wing-beat, electrified.
Yet the broken giant slumbered, among brittle, brown grass.
And all around it, grew up nothing.
A great plain gal. Green eyes. Mousy hair.
Disposition to match.
Embrace childhood memories of smallness and strife.
Climb high now- a mountain.
Look to the flat land not as meek or dusty,
But as a sturdy foundation.
When tumbleweeds blow through, like whispers of past,
Scratching at the soul in a desperate-fingers way…
Thy skin is of rough texture-
Erosion of miles laid out behind, and wind faced dead-on.
I shall not be torn, battered, or bared.
I move West, pitted by hard-won freedom.
The choice is one of onward.
*Welcome, Winter! I’m finding my voice, and writing with Amanda and others during the holiday season. You can see the prompts here, and it’s never too late to join in! – http://writealm.com/december-prompt-a-day/